Meet my boy's new foster frog. He found it and gave it a home yesterday. He really wants to keep it in his room, but for right now, it's living outside on our back deck. Well, you can call it living, if you mean he's trapped in a small nilon cage that's really meant to house butterflies and insects.
Knowing that it's hot outside, Carter asked me to check the frog's water before I left for work. He even gave me step-by-step instructions on what to do...
1. Open the door.
2. Stick your finger in the water to see if it's hot.
3. If it's hot, take the cup out of the cage.
4. Close the door.
5. Dump water out.
6. Refill it with cold water.
7. Put cup back in the cage.
8. Close the door.
So, being the awesome father that I am, I said yes to pacify him all-the-while planning on not checking on his frog. If you want to get technical, I lied to him. Why?
Because I hate Frogs.
H A T E...Like, all CAPS, bold/italic typeface style hate.
I never touched frogs growing up because I was afraid I would get warts all over my hands. And now, even as an adult I don't touch frogs. I just can't stand them. So I lied to Carter.
Then he left for school and I started to get ready for work. And then I started to feel bad about lying to Carter. And my heart apparently grew three sizes like the Grinch's. So against my better judgment, I decided to actually follow through and check the frog's water. So I followed Carter's instructions step by step.
Or at least I thought I did...
I apparently missed step number 4, which is a pretty important step. And I know I missed step number 4 because as I was bringing back cooler water for the frog, I noticed that the frog was in fact no longer in his home.
Then, at the exact same time, I noticed our dog Zoe barking at and stomping on something on our deck. And before I could get the words, "No Zoe," out of my mouth, she dropped her head and flipped the frog up in the air causing his little froggy legs and head to go spiraling upward then he landed back to earth on his little froggy back. I felt like I was watching it in slow motion.
After watching it bounce off the deck, I sprinted to where the frog was and covered him up like Big Herb Dean covers a fighter after he's been knocked out during a UFC fight. Once I was sure the frog was fine, I ran back to get his froggy home and put him back in. I'm not sure who was more happy that the frog was back in his home... me or the frog. But I do know that...
I still hate frogs. But I also love my boy.
I just hope I don't get any warts...